


Heart-Warming

by gingertintedglasses



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bets & Wagers, M/M, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Snowed In, Tony Stark: Meddler Extraordinare, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 10:58:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17000277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingertintedglasses/pseuds/gingertintedglasses
Summary: Steve is the Building Manager for the apartment Bucky lives in.  In the middle of a storm (so much for home-for-the-holidays!) Bucky's heat goes out.  Steve has an opportunity to tell Bucky how he feels.  With enough encouragement, he just might.





	Heart-Warming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Scout924](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scout924/gifts).



Bucky sniffled.

Correction. Bucky _tried_ to sniffle. What he really did was make his head feel more balloon-like and miss every moment he was able to breathe normally and took it for granted. He hated being sick (he rarely got sick and so when he did, it knocked him down _hard_. Six years ago, it’d been bronchitis. Eight years before that, swine flu.)

He also hated being stuck in New York City. He liked his new home well enough; there was always something to do and someone awake and he liked that the bodega on the corner was open until 3am so when he couldn’t sleep or worked late, he could run down and grab something to eat and get out of his head. He liked his job, and was good at it. Scary good. Best OR nurse they had in recent memory. So yes, he liked New York.

It was just that it wasn’t Indiana. New York wasn’t any warmer or colder – it was just different and sometimes he missed home. It’d been five years since he’d moved to New York, so it wasn’t often he felt this way, but around the holidays, when he was meant to be visiting his family (except the storm rolling in was huge and flights had been grounded and it wasn’t worth re-booking. By the time he got home he’d have to turn around and get back for work the next day), he really, really missed it.

Bucky gathered his reserves and hoisted himself off of his couch. He was in desperate need of tea. And to stop watching _The Day After Tomorrow._ Honestly. His imagination was active enough and it didn’t need encouragement; not in this weather. But it was on FX on repeat and it wasn’t like there was anything else on. ( _Wrong_. Lakefront Bargain Hunt was on HGTV but he’d already spent too much time that week staring at gorgeous houses he wanted but couldn’t have. Not just because of the cost, but because he didn’t have any outdoorsy, Mountain-Lodge-Candle-esque man to share it with. Which, without that, what’s the point?)

So _The Day After Tomorrow_ it was. He had plenty of water, non-perishables, and cold medicine; he’d be fine for a couple days. And if he wasn’t, he’d shuffle to the Urgent Care a few blocks down (and the bodega for a sandwich or more loose leaf tea).

He was so focused on cataloguing his supplies and planning out his next few days and not freaking out about the storm that he nearly knocked his mug off the counter thanks to three loud knocks at his front door. Bucky righted his mug and hurried for the door.

“Bucky – Mr. Barnes. Hi.”

Bucky smiled embarrassingly wide and only remembered to tone it down when Steve’s – their Building Manager- ears went pink.

“Steve! Hey. What’s going on? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, just – 3A’s water heater went out, so I was down there trying to fix it if I could and I noticed yours is out too.”

Bucky threw a glance over his shoulder into his apartment and, specifically, at his stove. He hadn’t put water on to boil yet, but his apartment felt warm. He looked back to Steve. “What?” 

“It – I was working on 3A and I heard yours make a noise; the pilot was out and I can’t get it to re-light. At least not yet.”

“Oh.” 3A was a floor below him, but maybe it was connected, somehow. “Is 5A ok?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, Bobbi is ok. It’s just you and Scott.” Steve scratched at his nose, leaving behind a smudge of grease or dust. “I’m gonna try to get them fixed as soon as I can. Hopefully it’s something I can fix; I don’t know that I’d get someone else out in this weather.” 

Bucky smiled what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “If you want a hand, let me know. You know more about that sort of thing than I do, but if you need another set of hands, I’m glad to help.” 

Steve smiled. “I’ll be ok. Thank you for the offer, though, Mr. Barnes.”

“Sure. Offer stands.”

Steve thanked him again, gave Bucky a last smile, and headed for the staircase at the end of the hall.

Since he’d moved in a year ago (and out of the shoebox he’d been in), Steve had been helpful, knowledgeable, personable, and unfailingly polite and professional. Everything Bucky could ask for in a Building Manager. Except.

Except Bucky was the only tenant Steve didn’t call by his first name. He wasn’t sure what he’d done or whether he’d given off some kind of aloof and unapproachable vibe, but Steve had never once called him Bucky. (And ok maybe it bothered Bucky a little. Maybe he felt like he was missing out on some kind of tenant-Building-Manager relationship others had. Maybe when Bucky watched _Lakefront Bargain Hunt_ he pretended he was house-hunting for he and Steve. _Maybe_. Sometimes. Definitely not all the time. _And ok maybe Bucky was a little hurt that he wasn’t entirely on a first-name-basis with Steve._ )

 

*****  
  


“You know you can just ask the guy out, rather than fuck with his heat.”

Steve groaned. “Sam.”

“What? I’m just pointing out the obvious. Or maybe you could like, talk to him like a normal person, if asking him out is too big a thing right now.”

“Will you just hand me that wrench so I can get this bolt off?” 

Sam held the tool just out of Steve’s reach. “Also that thing needs replacing. Seriously. It is _way_ too rusty.” 

“Yeah. It’s on my list. And I do talk to him ‘like a normal person’.”

“You have been calling him Mr. Barnes since he moved in. What gives? You have way more game than that and it’s _exhausting_.”

“He just – I just.” Steve sighed and sat back on his heels. “I’m the Building Manager. He’s a tenant. How would it look if—“ 

“Dude, there is an _actual bet_ about when you’ll finally get fed up with yourself and ask him out. But wait until the new year, ok? Tony's closest in the pool for the next two weeks.”

Steve gave Sam a look that was meant to be scathing, but Sam seemed unperturbed.

“That look explains jack shit about why you haven’t asked him out. My best guess? You’re too—“

“—Nope.” Steve turned back to the water heater. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m always too something. Right now, I’m too focused on making sure he has heat again.”

Sam sighed. “You have a couch, right? Let him crash with you tonight. It’s way too late to be bothering with a project this big.”

“But I got Bobbi’s going again.”

“Yeah, and none of the stuff that worked on her unit is working on his. Let it go for tonight, man. And _hang out_ with the object of your ridiculous crush.”

Steve ran a greasy hand through his hair. Sam winced.

“You think?” 

“I think you need a shower, mostly.”

“Fine. You’re right. –I don’t have to _like_ it, but you’re right. That’s your gift this year. I’m returning the mug I got you.”

Sam was _beaming_. “Fine. Whatever. I’m right. You admitted it. Nothing could possibly have made me happier.” Sam clapped his hands together. “So. Go ask him if he wants to sleep on your couch. I’m going back to my football game.”

So Steve did. He wiped his hands on his work jeans and went back to Bucky’s door and knocked. Bucky answered again looking as cute (and maybe a little sick?) as he had before; hair a little unkempt and tangled and clothes a little lounge-rumpled.

“Hey, uh – I can’t get your water heater going again. I’ll have to order a new one; it’s nearly due for replacement anyway. But – sorry.”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s not your fault. Thanks for trying to fix it.”

Steve re-adjusted the set of his tool belt. “Uh – I.   –It’s going to be really cold tonight, especially with the storm. You’d be welcome to stay at my place for the evening so you aren’t in a freezing apartment all night.”

Steve had to be careful. Sure, his crush on Bucky meant that he kept an overly-professional-distance just to be safe. But he also had to be careful because sometimes Bucky seemed unsettled by circumstances he hadn’t thought would unsettle someone. Steve kept his distance and was sure to be noisy as he approached Bucky’s door or Bucky himself when he wasn’t in Bucky’s line of sight. He tried not to make sudden movements or startle Bucky.

So Steve wanted to be careful with this conversation. He didn’t want to startle Bucky or make him uncomfortable _or_ treat him too carefully and make it uncomfortable for another reason entirely.

“Oh. Uh. I don’t want to put you out.” Bucky tucked a stray lock of hair behind an ear.

Steve shrugged and offered a reassuring (and hopefully casual) smile. “It’s no trouble, and I’d hate to think a tenant was freezing all night when they didn’t have to be.”

Bucky regarded Steve for several long moments. Not uncomfortable moments. They made Steve hyper-aware that Bucky was looking at him with those bright, bright, discerning eyes, and of how often their eyes met and Steve tried not to blush, only somewhat successfully.  

Bucky shifted his head only a fraction, and then his lips twitched. And then he nodded, no mistake, and smiled wider. And then sneezed, covering his face at the last moment and turning away.

“I’m kind of gross, Steve.” Came Bucky’s muffled rebuttal.

Steve shrugged instead of letting his shoulders simply slump. “I don’t mind, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky stared at him again for a few moments longer.

“Bucky.”

“What?” _What_ , as if Steve didn’t know. He was so bad at this. Too all-or-nothing. 

“You can call me Bucky, if you want.”

Steve _did_ want. He just didn’t know how to not fall head-over-heels ( _more_ head-over-heels, he could hear Sam tease). He was good at boundaries. He was terrible at having some when it came to himself.

“Thanks,” Steve smiled, “I will. –And I don’t mind, you know. I’ve got Kleenex and cold medicine and stuff.”

Bucky glanced back into his apartment, nodded at nothing in particular, and turned back to Steve. “Yeah. Ok. –Thanks. I’ll take you up on your offer. I don’t think a cold apartment will help me get better.”

Steve beamed before he could really stop himself. “Great! I’ll – grab what you need, take your time. Just knock.”

 

*****

 

Bucky shut his door and then leaned against it. He really didn’t want to sleep in a cold apartment, not when he was sick already. And he trusted Steve. He just _liked_ Steve and it wasn’t like anything was going to happen. He’d take a shower and curl up on Steve’s couch and fall asleep and in the morning, Steve would fix his water heater and Bucky would go back to his apartment.

He just really, really wanted something to happen. Even if Steve had only just agreed to a first-name-basis interaction with him.

Bucky sighed, and pushed off of his door and headed for his bedroom. He needed his duffel bag, a change of clothes, pjs, and toiletries. And after a brief hesitation in his front hall, he doubled back to his kitchen and grabbed the six pack (technically now a four-pack), before heading upstairs to Steve’s apartment.

It was only a few moments’ wait before Steve opened the door.

“Bucky, hey – welcome” Steve stepped aside.

“Thanks again, I really appreciate it.” He held up his beer. “I brought, uhm, beer. To say thanks.”

“…Aren’t you sick?”

Bucky wanted to hit himself in the face with the four-pack. With luck it would knock some sense into him.

The thought clearly came across on his face, because Steve added a hurried: “-Sorry, that was rude. Thanks. I’d love one.”

Bucky held out the package. “They’re all yours. I am still sick, you’re right. I just.” He shrugged, casting around for an actual answer that wasn’t embarrassing. “It’s sort of engrained that you don’t show up somewhere without a gift.”

Steve grinned. “My Ma taught me the same thing. Want anything? If not beer, then maybe tea or water or something?”

“Nah.” Bucky nodded to the couch. “You sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all. Make yourself comfortable. I was trying to find something to watch so your presence is very welcome, I can’t find anything that really sticks out.”

Bucky settled on the couch. Steve had a comfortable if somewhat sparse living room. Not empty – he certainly had photos and artwork and well-worn furniture, but it just seemed like everything had its place and was situated to be in the most sensible spot. The only exception was the tool belt, sneakers, and Craftsman steel box by the door.

“Have you narrowed it down at all?”

Steve fidgeted. “Kind of?”

Bucky furrowed his brow. “What?”

“I’m stuck between a couple. I was thinking of _Sing_ or _Moana_.”

“They’re both great, honestly.”

Steve startled, if only slightly. “What?”

“I have nieces. My sister’s kids. I’ve seen most of the kids movies that are out now. They’re both great.”

Steve nodded. “Which one do you like the animation for better?”

Bucky nodded to one of the pieces of art hanging on the wall behind Steve’s head, a charcoal sketch of the New York skyline the way it looked from their rooftop garden. “You an artist, Steve?” 

Steve blushed. “I like to think so. At least, part-time. Or all the time but not professionally?”

Bucky nodded. “ _Moana_ , then.”

 

*****

 

Steve loved _Moana_ ; Bucky had excellent taste. He also had, through the course of both of them getting up and down for beverages and food, ended up sitting far closer to Steve than he’d been at the beginning of the movie. Steve found it difficult to find this development unfortunate.

It wasn’t until the credits were rolling that Bucky spoke. “Thanks, Steve.” 

“For what?”

“For letting me stay. I really appreciate it. I know-“ Bucky cut himself off and let the thought drop.

Steve couldn’t. “What?”

Bucky fidgeted, sighed, and glanced away from Steve despite turning to face him. “I know…I’m not your favorite tenant. So thanks for letting me stay. It means a lot that you’d put yourself out for me.”

“ _What?_ ” Steve was pretty sure he’d gone pale. 

“You don’t – you don’t call me by my first name, ever. You’re –you’re so polite and professional, don’t get me wrong. I just – you’re _friends_ with plenty of the other tenants and you call them by their first names and – I just appreciate you letting me stay, ok?”

Steve wasn’t sure how the floor was simultaneously underfoot and missing altogether. “I-“ He was too stubborn. Too worried about how uncomfortable the truth might make Bucky. Too willing to let himself suffer just in case it meant others didn’t. Sam may have had a point. He sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ve been too formal with you because…because I thought it would be better.”

“Than what?” A small, curious smile played on the corners of Bucky’s mouth.

Steve took a deep breath and tried to rush as best he could through his next words. “I like you, a lot, and I’ve been trying to keep some distance since you moved in because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable and I hoped it would help me be less…interested but it hasn’t. You’re smart and funny and handsome and – would you want to go out, sometime?”

Bucky blinked. Sat back.

“-You don’t have to say yes, just because you’re here right now, and don’t have heat. Oh my god. I didn’t – don’t feel obligated. Regardless of what you say, you’re welcome to stay here and if you don’t want to go out, nothing will change, I don’t want you to feel—“

Bucky cut him off with hands on his face. “Steve. I’m going to kiss you now, and then we’re going to watch _The Day After Tomorrow_ and once this storm ends we’re going out on a date. Maybe many dates.”

Steve smiled, cheeks pushing into Bucky’s hands. “ _The Day After Tomorrow_?”

Bucky shrugged. “If I can’t get home for the holidays I’m going to pretend no one else can get anywhere, either.” He leaned in and kissed Steve’s forehead. “And once I’m not feeling so plague-ridden, I’m kissing you for real.”

Steve laughed. “Need more DayQuil? I bet we can get you to kick this in a day or two.” 

“So impatient.” Bucky teased.

“It’s one of my better qualities. Ask anyone.”

 

*****

 

They were headed out for coffee the next morning when it happened. Bucky insisted on talking the walk. (It was a head cold, he was getting a little cabin fever, and the coffee shop was half a block away.)

He also insisted on going as an opportunity to hold Steve’s hand. Because, yes. He was also determined that they’d watch _Lakefront Bargain Hunt_ together. For reasons.

They were partway down the stairs when they ran into Tony, in 12C, coming back up the stairs.   Whose expression went from exhaustion to disbelief to joy in a matter of moments. Who also called down loud and happy, “It Happened! It finally Happened! - _You owe be fifty bucks, Wilson!_ ” before flashing Steve and Bucky a bright, mischievous smile and continuing up the stairs without another word.

Bucky could feel his face still contorted in confusion, despite his best efforts, as he turned to Steve. “What?”

Steve’s expression was nothing short of much-put-upon. “They had a bet going. Sam and Tony and some of the other tenants.”

“About what?”

“How long it would take me to get out of my own way and ask you out.”

Bucky laughed. And then laughed harder, when Tony blew by them again, wrench in-hand, and a hurried, “You can have your heat back now, Barnes!” shouted behind him as he hurried towards the basement.

 


End file.
